Hell Returns
by PrimadonnaGurl13
Summary: While researching killings, they discover they lead to the one person they'd never dream of teaming up with. Leading them to destroy the one enemy they never thought would return. But things won't be simple and they'll have to make some sacrifices if they intend on getting their lives back. - As close to canon as I can get. Some language. Some fun. Some demons. :) Please review.


**So I haven't written any fanfiction in a long time. I'm aware I have several others I haven't finished, but I really wanted to write something fresh and new for me, so... without further ado, I give you the first ever Supernatural fanfic I've ever tried. If you like, I'll continue. This is just a taster, the first chapter. It's short, but that's because I haven't had a chance to really think it through, but trust me, it'll be good. I hope. *fingers crossed* I'm not expecting it to be 100% canon, I am not aiming for excellence in behaviour, but I hope I can make it convincing enough for you to read and like and review. Thanks. :) **

**Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Warner Brothers and whatever channel Supernatural is generally shown on, etc etc. I just...borrow them. :)**

Chapter One:

Sam glanced bleary eyes at the clock. Only seven fifteen. How was it, that he could sleep during the day, but not at night?

The door to their motel room slammed shut and he sat up in bed. He rubbed his eyes to clear his sight, when Dean appeared in front of him with a steaming cup of-

"Starbucks. Man, you wouldn't believe those chicks. Hot as pie."

Sam grimaced but took the offering. Searing coffee almost burnt a layer off his tongue, but he cherished the caffeine running through his blood stream one sip at a time.

"How comes you're up so early?" asked Sam. He managed to set his feet on the cold stone floor, but didn't move to stand. He felt utterly exhausted for some reason. Maybe it was all the long nights they'd stayed up researching these weird killings. Actually, scratch that. The long nights _he'd _stayed up. Dean wound up with a bottle of beer in one hand, snoring in bed by the time midnight came along.

Dean nodded. "Why are you? I heard you up, clicking away at five. Dude, sleep!"

"I can't!" Sam replied just as defiantly. He ran a hand through his fast growing hair and groaned. "These tracks make no sense," he went on, oblivious to Dean walking over to his laptop, clearly not paying any attention. Sam did the same, going over what he'd found. "One person dead, a mile apart, all leading to-" Suddenly it all became clear.

Dean looked up. "Leading to what, Sam?"

He couldn't believe it. "You're not going to believe this,"

"Believe what? Dude, it's too early for cryptic mind games."

Sam swivelled his laptop around so Dean could see, and he saw the slow rise of his eyebrows, the O his lips formed in mild surprise. Then the door flew back open and they weren't alone anymore.

"Hello, boys," growled Crowley. Two skinny teens dressed in black overalls and wearing name badges, flanked him, their eyes as black as coal.

"Crowley, what the hell man?" cried Dean. He cursed wildly, at the stupidity of not drawing demon traps in their room. Crowley merely smiled, his face transforming into innocence, as though he hadn't just barged in on their privacy.

"Nice to see you too, Dean. So tell me," He stepped forward, eyes taking in everything from the laptop screens to the unmade beds. "I believe you've discovered something interesting." His gaze went to Sam, who flinched. The caffeine wasn't working fast enough. He blinked once, twice.

Dean appeared confused, which wasn't shocking, really, and peered across at his brother. "What's he talking about?"

"What you just saw," Sam said quietly.

A blank look from Dean. "Yeah, so?"

"You really didn't get it, did you? It's him. He's the one killing those people." Sam straightened and gathered some courage. Glaring icily at the head demon he said, "Aren't you, Crowley?"

The man chuckled and folded his hands together, they were covered in black leather gloves. "You are clever. But no, I wouldn't dirty myself with such a task. My boys do that well enough for me. But you're missing one vital point,"

"And that is?" Sam sat down, slowly. Still alert, still worried, but realising he wasn't in trouble. Not yet, anyway.

"I needed to get your attention. We have a problem,"

"Besides you, you mean?" snarled Dean. He set his cup down, coffee sloshing over the sides. He walked closer to Crowley, sizing him up. "You got something to say, say it."

Crowley met him straight in the eye. "Who do you hate more than me?"

"Abaddon," whispered Sam. Crowley looked across at him and slowly shook his head.

"No, you morons. Think higher. Someone you thought you'd killed but apparently," Then he looked down at his feet, muttering, "Still finds his dirty filth back."

Dean took a noticeable step back and let out a slow breath. "Son of a bitch. Lu-" Crowley put a hand over his mouth to stop the name.

"Don't say it," he hissed. "If you do, we'll all be in trouble."

"You're scared of him?" laughed Dean. "And here we thought _you_ were the big bad wolf. So we're all screwed."

"Indeed. But that's why I'm here." When neither of the boys said a word, he added, "To help you get rid of him, properly."

**A/N: If you could review, criticise (constructively) or just comment, I'd be really grateful. Cheers. **


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